He was dangerous.
He was deadly attractive.
He was damaged.
He possessed every quality a stereotypical bad boy was known to have.
I was warned.
But that didn't mean I couldn't get a little taste.
This is a special chapter for you guys because I hit 1K reads not long ago and because so many of you have been leaving comments that MOTIVATE me and make me feel so BDJFJDV :)
I love all of you so much, and I hope you enjoy this chapter 💙
•••
Ethan's POV
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But he never made it.
I look down at my phone while sitting on my bed at the stupid screenshot of that old Tweet. Maybe I should delete it. Or maybe not.
I get up and slip on one of the matching black hoodies that Grayson and I used to wear, back when everything was great.
Back when we were just the teenagers that recorded everything they did because we knew it made people happy. Back when the only thing we stressed about was uploading videos every Tuesday.
The hoodies were given to us by one of our supporters while we were on tour, five years ago. It was the best time of our lives. We flew around the world, met the people that had spent their time loving us behind a screen.
Funny how that world disintegrated in a second.
When Grayson died, everything tore apart. People threw hate at us—in reality, just me—and said that we were faking Gray's death just to get attention. Our own supporters turned on us while I was grieving, and it hurt. Fan accounts deactivated or turned into hate accounts, Twitter hashtags were trending for weeks. It sent me off the brink to the point where I deleted everything. I got rid of my Instagram, Twitter, YouTube channel, Snapchat, Vine, even Grayson's. I made a fake account to watch over everything, and saw that some of our loyal supporters were depressed. I DMed some of them to thank them and set them at ease. And then everyone started forgetting.
I started to develop sudden mood swings. It got harder to sleep at night, which was almost impossible because I barely even slept at all when things were going right.
I missed Grayson all the time, and I missed hearing his loud ass snores and nearly having him crush me or give me pneumonia to wake me up every morning. I missed the feeling I always had when he was with me. He was one of the few people who could actually deal with my stupidity and I always thought he'd be there.
Reality is life's best friend, and they both thought they needed to teach me a lesson.
People don't understand how bad it feels. It wasn't like just losing a family member—it felt like a limb and a crucial organ in my body were ripped away from me as well.
